


Not In Lone Splendor

by Medie



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T'Pring doesn't know what she's missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not In Lone Splendor

**Author's Note:**

> Oh how I wrote this I do not know. Wait, yes I do! I jokingly commented to [](http://havocthecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**havocthecat**](http://havocthecat.livejournal.com/) about an idea like this and she encouraged me. So it's her fault people. She also helped me find a title which comes from the [Bright Star](http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16229) by John Keats. This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/occhallenge/profile)[**occhallenge**](http://community.livejournal.com/occhallenge/)'s "colour" challenge. Colour in question, naturally, is green. *G*

*

"He followed me home," Jim teases, wrapping his arms around her. "Can I keep him?" His grin is boyish and excited and she thinks again that she is Wendy to his Peter Pan. It's his first leave since taking command of the Enterprise and he's brought his first officer home, even if they hadn't been talking about this over subspace it speaks to much about them.

Spock unsurprisingly stands at a respectable distance but, surprisingly as it violates Vulcan propriety, he watches them closely though not obviously. She knows his family and realizes that Jim does not and would not. She's the one who works for the President, she's the one who would recognize the son of Vulcan's leading family and she's the one trying hard not to giggle with nerves. Her husband's brought her home a prince.

As souvenirs go, it's better than a snow globe.

Moira laughs despite herself, prompted by the whisper of Jim's lips over the sensitive skin of her neck. "I don't know," she says and lets him spin her around in his excitement. "What does he think of all this?"

With a question posed to him, Spock steps closer and she's again surprised. This time by the barely disguised interest smoldering in his gaze. It's not a look meant only for Jim and that's why it surprises. She would understand if it was. Moira's husband is as irresistible a force as a black hole, something she takes great glee in. "He thinks, Lady, that this is a most unusual an occurrence."

She smiles a tiny smile and imagines this is not what he would expect of his mother's people. She looks at Jim and smiles wider. He's almost giddy with excitement and it occurs to her that she hasn't seen him like this since before Gary died. Her heart clenches at the thought of their lost friend and she swallows. Were she _not_ intrigued by this, she couldn't refuse it now anyway...not knowing this.

"With Jim," she responds, smiling, "most things usually are."

Spock nods, it would be almost a gravely serious action were it not for the faint hint of mischief in the darkness of his eyes. "Indeed."

*

She's embarrassed later, realizing what put that look in Spock's eye. Green is her favorite colour, the colour of the dress she'd worn that day. The dress is a filmy, impractical thing in a shade that the anthropologist in her is chagrined to remember is the colour of Vulcan blood.

A colour equated, in the time before Surak, with passion and desire.

When she tells Jim, he teases her for a week just to watch her blush again.

She wears it that first night, letting them strip it from her skin.

*

The first time Spock brings their minds together, it's almost too much for any human to bear. Moira writhes in the fire of their passion, feeling as if she'll be burned alive by a single touch. There are no boundaries, no barriers, what she feels they feel...

Spock thrusts into her, the movement sharp and swift but it's Jim who cries out her pleasure. Jim's mouth closes on Spock's shoulder but it's Moira who shivers, she tightens around Spock and they all groan their release.

Each time after that, when they come together the walls between their minds vanish under Spock's capable fingers. All that they mixes together, letting them get lost in each other.

She's beneath Spock, Jim thrusting into him and him into her when they hear the thought whisper through their mind.

_I'll never look at Vulcans the same way again..._

They're not sure who thinks it, it doesn't matter. What matters is this is the only place they'll ever hear Spock's laughter.

*

The President is an aged woman, elegant and wise but nobody's fool. Even for a Vulcan, T'Pol is a secretive woman and much of her early years beyond bits and pieces of her work with humans is a mystery to the Federation. Moira's thought to ask Spock a few times, he certainly has lived a life akin to T'Pol's, but knows he could offer no answers. Vulcan respect for privacy being what it is, he just can't.

That privacy protects his life as much as it does the President. When the call comes in from the Enterprise, it's nothing new but this is her birthday and T'Pol sends her off to answer it with the wave of a hand.

It's the look in her eye when she does that makes Moira wonder.

History takes on a whole new meaning when she sits down at her desk to see Spock and Jim on her screen.

*

 

The old news services of centuries ago were largely lost during the Eugenics and third world wars, from what Moira's seen of them that's not a bad thing. She finds the modern press enough of a headache when planning a President's agenda, she doesn't want to know how her counterparts in presidencies of yesteryear would have fared.

As much of a headache as the press is professionally, it becomes an entirely more irksome matter privately. With a second name like Tiberius, she's always teased Jim about becoming a legend. When it actually begins to happen, she finds herself dreadfully amused by the prescience of her words.

They are more cautious in their life, such relationships are hardly unheard of but none of them wish intruders on it it just the same. The galaxy gets them enough, this part of them she doesn't want to share.

It's funny until the first time Jim mentions the name T'Pring. Worried about Spock from the moment T'Pau contacted T'Pol, she devours everything he can tell her about what happened on Vulcan. She understands Pon Farr in the most limited of terms but forgets it when he relates T'Pring's cold-hearted explanation for the challenge.

Moira schedules a vacation the first chance she can get. The President's Chief of Staff visiting the Enterprise is unusual but not unheard and, in truth, she doesn't give a damn if it is.

She spends the trip plotting a dozen ways to murder T'Pring and almost wishes she had the power to order such an execution.

*

Moira Kirk married a man, not a legend. Nevertheless, somewhere along the line she fell in love with two.

Three - if you count the ship. She sometimes does.

She wakes up in a Risan bed on the morning of their fifth anniversary of _this_. It's fitting, she thinks, that she's sandwiched between them both but it's so very typical that she's the last one to wake.

Rubbing at one eye, she smiles sleepily. Spock is lying beside her, one of her legs is draped across his while Jim is behind her, already hard as he rubs a hand up and down her hip. She can feel the heat of Spock's intense gaze as it works over them and she reaches out. He always looks like this when he looks at them.

The faint trace of wonder always makes her smile.

"Good morning," she murmurs, her fingers tangling with his.

He allows her to kiss him as Jim touches them both, his fingers sliding over their joined hands. Spock slides inside, thick and hard, and she feels his mind touch hers.

Their thoughts swallow her whole and she laughs.

T'Pring doesn't know what she's missing, Moira can't be happier.


End file.
